


Aftereffects

by HeartsGuardianSol



Series: Aftereffects [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Discussion of Abortion, Drabbles, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Guilt, Transformer Sparklings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2018-08-12 10:57:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7932010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartsGuardianSol/pseuds/HeartsGuardianSol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jazz fresh from the calamity that befell Praxus, picked up something that would change his life hopefully for the better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sarielgrace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarielgrace/gifts).



> This Story takes place in an alternate universe starting shortly after the fall of Praxus. Be warned, there will be flashbacks, and the timelines might get wibblywobbly if the bunny suffers from fits of angst. These are and will be drabbles for the most part. Hence the tags. Also the title is a working title. I'm open to suggestions.
> 
> Do note that this is purely self indulgent even if I do blame Sarielgrace for encouraging me to work on this AU to help me get my mind off of THINGS. So I'm dedicating it to you. :p  
> As for the rest of you, thank you for your patronage and have a nice day.

**1: Guilt**

**.**

**.**

**.**

Jazz stood before his oldest friend and Prime, his once white plating blackened and coated in ash and crusted on flecks of energon, his visor cracked and dim. The saboteur wouldn’t look up from the random patch of flooring that he had chosen to to stare at.

“Jazz.” Optimus said quietly as he reached out to put a hand on the smaller mechs shoulder, only to pause as Jazz flinched back from the offered comfort. “You can’t blame yourself.”

“Two.” Jazz bit the glyph out. “Only two made it out of that catastrophe. I should have tried harder to stop that pit spawned glitch.”  
  
“You did everything you could.” 

A tear slipped from under the visor. “Optimus… I started the initial attack…” Jazz whispered in the quiet room. “I’m the one that released those parachute bombs.”

The Prime hmmed before asking, “Did any of them kill anymech?”

Jazz shook his helm. “They were just a distraction to cover the initial air raid. But I might as well been the one to kill them.”

Optimus caught Jazz’s chin in his hand, raising his friend’s face to meet his own. “You did all that you could.”

“But-" 

"Jazz. Tell me who did the newspark claim as it’s guardian?”

“Me. Optimus… I tried to give him to the femme’s he won’t accept them… in fact he wouldn’t let go of me…” Jazz nodded his helm backwards over his shoulder.

Optimus frowned slightly as he looked his friend over before noting the small grey lump that was magnetically clung to the saboteur’s back. A soft smile lit the Prime’s lips. “And you still doubt yourself? Perhaps, if you cannot trust my judgment, perhaps you could trust his.” 

Any word that had been on Jazz’s glossa died away at the sound of a tiny chirp from the sparkling who nestled tighter against him. He sighed, the tension in his frame easing as he gave a tired defeated sigh.

“I hate it when you are right.”

“I know old friend. I know.”


	2. ...

**2: ...**

**.**

**.**

**.**

Jazz sighed as he entered the wash racks. The steam from the solvent laid heavy and damp in the air settling on his frame and earning him a slight annoyed chirp from his back at the change of  temperature.

Jazz smiled apologetically over his shoulder as tired blue slivers peered up at him. He shivered as the sparkling crawled up to his shoulder. “Sorry lil guy, I gotta rinse this grime off.” Jazz raised a hand to gently cup around the bitlet, it’s little doors twitching against his palm.

Tiny hands, their white stained grey with ash wrapped around his digits, the new spark inspected his black fingers before gingerly popping one of them in their mouth. This lasted mere seconds before the sparkling gave a disgusted retch and spat the digit out with a bit of sputtering.

Jazz chuckled at  the little one’s antics. “See? That’s why I need to take a wash.." 

The bitlet stared hard at him for a minute before patting Jazz’s face plates with an ash covered hand, which soon magnetized itself to the side helm as the bitlet crawled up on top. A tired peep came from the bitlet as he resettled against his helm. 

Jazz blinked behind his visor for about a breem before sighing. "I take it you aren’t gonna move are you?” He murmured as he gave his helm a slight shake.

An agitated peep and a tighter snuggling was his reply.


	3. Stare but Don't Comment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spec ops meet the bitlet.

**3: Stare but Don't Comment**

**.**

**.**

**.**

They were staring again. He knew it. They _knew_ he knew it, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about _him_... Jazz fought the urge to try and pull the sparkling off of his helm, which had become his second favorite place to perch. Second only to Jazz’s backplates from where the sparkling liked to spring up and startle mechs who didn’t notice the bitlet until it was too late. The sparkling was currently playing with his horns, happy squeaks and the feeling of the air being fanned by the sparkling’s little doors.. he must be a sight to be seen…

“Um… Sir”

“Yes Hound?” Jazz tried not to let his exasperation into his voice. He winced slightly as the sparkling pinched his horns a little to tight.

“Sir, who… Who’s bitlet is that?”

“He’s mine.”

Several smirks lit up on those not quick enough to hide them, earning a tight lipped frown of their esteemed leader. “I didn’t know you had a sparkmate-" 

"I don’t.” The tone was dry enough to set fire to. Hound gave a quite “Oh.” before pointedly looking over at an interesting nonexistant patch on the wall, but soon enough his gaze kept flickering back to the tiny bot on his commander’s helm.. Jazz gave a sigh and fought the urge to facepalm. “He’s one of the survivors from Praxus.”

“You mean they let _you_  keep him?" 

“ _Excuse me?”_

The gathered bots shrank away from the one that had spoken, Jazz leveled an icy glare at Cliffjumper who tried to hide behind one of the others but was gently pushed back to the center of the opening.

"Is there a problem with _me_ being his guardian Cliffjumper?” Several bots shivered as irritation carried over into his field and the chill from his tone seemed to emanate into the air. Even the sparkling went still on top of Jazz’s helm, the bitlet’s doorwings were barely twitching.

“No sir…”

The room vented a collective sigh. 

“It’s just-”

“SSSHHHH!!” the others converged on the minibot. 

Jazz’s visor darkened. “Just. What?”

“Just what.. what? CJ didn’t say anything. Nope.” 

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” Punch said as he sat on Cliffjumper, smashing his helm into the floor with a hand. The red bot’s muffled cursing earned him a quick pinch to the wires on the back of his helm, rendering him unconscious.

“Just forget he said anything sir…” Hound chuckled.

Jazz grit his denta. “Look I know that this maybe a shock to all of ya, but I think I’m capable of handling the bitlet. After all I have to deal with you lot now don’t I?”

“So… What’s his name?” Hound asked in a feeble attempt to change the topic.

Jazz winced. The sparkling gave a questioning chirp and there sudden flash of guilt in Jazz’s field. Jazz gave a weak smile and ran a hand over the top of his helm to cup the now quivering bitlet. “Um… I haven’t gotten that far yet.”

“YOU HAVEN’T NAMED HIM?!" 


	4. Just a Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz is made/forced to make up his fragging mind.

Carrier's helm gave him a place to observe the other mech that came near them. Everyone was watching him sitting there on top of his carrier, a sea of curious blue... Irritation bled into his carrier's field, and it made him nervous.. But they weren't the ones that scared him... not like the one-who-was-not-there... He gave a questioning peep before shuddering and clinging to his carrier as a flash of guilt flooded through the frame under him. Carrier's hand curled over him and shielded him from the gazes...

\----------------

Jazz sighed as the door to his office clicked shut behind them.

"Now look at what those guys did.." Jazz whispered as he tried to pry the bitlet off his helm.

"Us? You're the one who was getting ticked off." Mirage said as he appeared in the corner.

Another chirp and tighter snuggling against his helm had Jazz glaring at his second. "Not you too."

"I'm not here to test your parental skills if that is what you're fearing."

"No, I'm sure you're only here for the blackmail material." Jazz said dryly as he tickled the sparkling's side. Happy squeals had him wincing as the bitlet relinquished it's grasp as it tried to squirm out of his attack.

"Well that would be part of it..."

Jazz scoffed. "And the other part?"

A guilty look crossed Mirage's face. "Well..."

The door slid open and a rather imposing glare was leveled on Jazz from it's occupant. "You never came to see me."

"..." Jazz stared with wide optics at the CMO who stood with his arms crossed in the only exit out of Jazz's office (the only one he'd reveal to them at least). He shot a brief glare at his traitorous second before grinning widely at Ratchet. "R-Ratch my bot! I was just about to come see ya."

"Oh really."

"Yep."

"Then why is it that we go through this every time you return from a mission?"

"Because the thrill of the hunt is what keeps ya young oldtimer."

Ratchet's grip tightened on the wrench in his hand. "Jazz..."

"Now Ratchet, you wouldn't risk hitting the bitlet would you?" Jazz said as he held up the sparkling. The bitlet blinked up at the medic who blinked equally back at the little praxian. "Jazz... Who's sparkling did you steal?"

Jazz wilted under the medic's glyphs. "He's mine."

"Yours."

"Yes."

"..." Ratchet looked back and forth between the bitlet and Jazz.

"I found him in the massacre. He claimed me as his guardian."

"And you waited a fragging _orn_ to tell me about him?!"

The sparkling peeped nervously under the ranting tone, earning Ratchet a glare from Jazz as the it turned away from the irate medic, snuggled against his frame. "I had Hoist check him out."  
Ratchet moved forward with a scoff and determination. "Hoist doesn't know squat about sparklings. Pit Jazz he's-"

"Scared of your tone." Jazz growled.

A hurt look crossed the medic's features before he gave a sigh. "It's alright little one I ain't gonna hurt ya. Your idiot guardian maybe..." Ratchet whispered as he ran a finger down it's dorsal plating. "Jazz, for just this once will you follow me to the med bay?"

"Sure thing docbot."

\--------

  
By the time Jazz finally hopped up on the edge of the berth the sparkling had moved to his back. Ratchet frowned at Jazz who merely pointed over his shoulder. As Ratchet leaned in the bitlet poked his helm up with a loud irate peep. Ratchet chuckled as he leaned away from the pair as Jazz chuckled at the lil guy's antics.

"Easy there bitlet." Jazz said as he leaned his helm into the smaller frame now perched on his shoulder.

Ratchet took scans of the preening "Hm... What have you been feeding him?"

"Low grade."

"Hm... not a bad decision but he's benefit more if he were to have naturally filtered energon..." Ratchet muttered as he glanced over at the bitlet. "Hand... What did you say his designation was?"

"Um.. I didn't." Jazz avoided the medic's glare. "His Carrier was offline when I found him. I have no clue what to even begin to call him..."

"..."

"Jazz."

"... Yes Hatchet?"

"Just choose a damned designation."

"... hm... okay..."

"And not Bitlet."

Jazz opened his mouth to speak when he was cut off again.

"Or Squirt, Peep, or Pipsqueak."

Jazz opened his mouth again and shut it as Ratchet leveled him with another glare. He turned his helm to stare at the bitlet who blinked back at him with a smile on it's little face. "Hm... Pounce?"

"He's not a cybercat."

"Fine then how about Prowl. It's a good name and he does like to sneak up bots who don't notice him... Yeah... Prowl that's final."

"Prowl it is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As for why Prowl calls Jazz Carrier... well Jazz is carrying him around now isn't he?


	5. Of Respect and Digits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prowl has been choosing new places to perch.

Jazz was trying his damned best to keep from laughing. He wasn't the only bot that was trying to hide their amusement as they stared at Ultra Magnus. The bot in question had a disgruntled look on his face as he tried hard to keep himself from reaching up and plucking his passenger from the top of his helm. His passenger was currently mimicking him with stern beeps to emphasize his report that he was currently giving to the rest of the gathered command staff. The Second in Command grit his denta and glared at Jazz while he attempted to ignore the blatant disrespect the black and white sparkling was displaying atop his cranium.

  
"Someone needs to get him down before Magnus snaps." Ratchet hissed to Jazz.

"I've got it." Mirage vanished as he activated his EM disrupted.

Neither Ultra Magnus nor Prowl noticed the spy vanish. However half a klick later the peeping stopped and turned into a snarling hiss right before Prowl latched on to seemingly thin air. The spy reappeared with a yelp, his finger securely clenched in the tiny praxian's bite. He tried to pull back only in succeeding in his original task by pulling the bitlet off of Ultra Magnus' head, with his digit still being chomped on.

"OW! GET HIM OFF!" the noble tried shaking his arm in a futile attempt to dislodge Prowl. The sparkling bit down even harder, the metal crunching as he refused to release his grip. Jazz having long since abandoned his chair, and was currently trying to grab his sparkling. There was a loud snap as Prowl went flying, Mirage's digit still in his mouth, freshly separated from his hand. Jazz dived just in time for him to bounce off his bumper and on to his abdomen.

"Fragging glitch of a sharkticon took my finger off!" Mirage hissed as he inspected his bleeding hand. A wrench met his helm with a scolding about his language. "Frag it Ratchet that hurt." 

"You'll live." Ratchet said as he moved over to examine Prowl who was happily sitting on Jazz's chassis inspecting his prize. "Surprisingly enough, your bitlet's fine." he sighed before pinching the bridge of his olfactory sensor.

"Jazz.. might I suggest that you find a sparkling sitter for future meetings?" Optimus proposed his humor only being contained by his battle mask.


	6. Of Nightfluxes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who's ready for angst?

  
They drifted, daintily on the caressing wind… dancing like the most graceful of seekers in the sky. Falling elegantly to the plaza below, Meister watched with an uncontainable glee as they dropped, the mechs below finally starting to notice his ‘gifts’.

Sparklings pointed upwards at the parachutes as they caught their attention. Their creators pausing at their younglings urging, peering skyward with gazes of mixed curiosity and wonder at the ornate little boxes...

Until the first of his presents connected with the first of the crystal spires, setting off a chain reaction as the explosives ignited. Enthrallment changed to dismay, shock, and terror. Screams and cries of fear… mechs standing frozen in place while others ran.. Pandemonium broke loose as the mechs tried to escape…

Seeker engines screamed overhead announcing the oncoming rain...

 

…………………

 

Jazz woke from his recharge his visor flaring to life, his fans on high.. his engine giving a stressed whine as he vented deeply trying to calm himself.

A quiet whimper in the dark brought his stressed mind to a standstill, the feeling of a gentle warmth on his chassis, centering him as he gazed down at the sparkling that clinging to him in it’s on recharge..

A sob caught itself in his vocalizer… as all he could think was,  _Why?_


	7. Handful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think this one is self explanatory,,,

He should have taken it as a sign. A bad omen. He should have and later he would only moan when His cassettes reminded him of it, but Blaster could only stare at Jazz’s tiny bit standing behind the ruinous mess of the table he had just flipped over.

“Prowl? How did you…?”

The bitlet looked up with slightly watery optics, his winglets twitching irritably as he glared at the underside of the table. The little praxian gave a little huff and with a stomp of a pede, he toddled away from his mess.

“That was… weird.” Steeljaw mumbled as he made his way over to start cleaning the mess.

“Eh, it was just an accident.” Blaster said as he brought over the waste bin and some towels. “Ya know bits make messes.”

“Remind me why we are watching the little guy again.” Steeljaw sighed as he gingerly picked up the soaked datapads.

“Because I owe Jazz one. Also he believes between the three of us we should be able to keep the little guy occupied for the next few cycles.”

“Okay but where is he?”

“Y'know Jazz’s missions are-”

“Not Jazz. The bit.”

Blaster shot a glance around him quarters before running a hand down his faceplates. “Slag.”

x

x

x

"What do you mean you _lost_ him?" Red Alert spun around to face Blaster with pale optics.

"Shhh. Not so loud. I don't need it getting out that he's missing."

"Do you have any idea how many horrible things could happen to him in he base? What if somebot steps on him? What if he ends up in the lower levels of the base? What if Ravage or any of Soundwave's little spawn break in and botnap him?"

"Red would you please just let me review the cameras?" Blaster tried to push by the security director only to be blocked off from his goal as Red laid into his comuter and began to rapidly go through the footage.

"Oh pit no. I doubt you could do a good enough job."

x

x

x

Ratchet glared at the vent that hung above his office door. Dust was puffing out of the air duct along. His optics widened as two specks of blue peered out through the dust. "What in the name of the Allspark..?"

A giggle echoed as the specks vanished.

_:Blaster...:_

_x_

_x_

_X_

_~You'd think that with all of the times we've chased Ravage and Laserbeak through here you'd think that we'd know this maze by spark... But no..~_ Ramhorn gripped over the bond. _~Where the frag is he? As much dust as he was kicking up you'd think we would have found him by now.~_

Steeljaw sneezed as he inhaled more dust. _~I can't believe that there's so much fragging dust in here.~_ He sneezed again and missed noticing the drop off before tumbling down the shaft. _~Slag!~_

 _~STEELJAW?!~_ both Blaster and Ramhorn yelled over the bond as he spun head over pedes down the shaft before he landed with a heap at the bottom.

_~Ow...~_

_~Are you okay?~_

Something poked him in the nose. Steeljaw blinked his optics open to a dust covered sparkling, who was looking him over with wide concerned optics.

_~Steelie?"_

_~I found him.~_ Steeljaw vented a sigh as Prowl patted him on the head.


	8. Rarity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who ordered the angst with a side of revulsion for Smokescreen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter drabble is filled with DARK THEMES and thoughts of abortion. You have been warned

Smokescreen punched the polished glass with a curse, welcoming the pain that sprang forth. The steam in the room settled on him a stifling blanket as he vented deeply. _How could I have let this happen? How could I be so stupid?_

A sour taste flooded his mouth as he tried not to purge the little remaining energon in his tanks as he leaned against the wall trying to calm himself. Running a hand down his faceplates he groaned at the length of his stupidity. 

The slight fluttering in his sparkchamber made him shiver in revulsion. This... He couldn't handle this. His frame trembled as he rested his hands beside his open chest plates. A half cocked idea forming in his processors as he stared in his shattered reflection at the tiny barely formed spark that spun eagerly around his.. One pinch and it would be over. The other creator never need know about this... this aberation.

_I can do this..._

His trembling doorwings caught his attention and he paused lifting his gaze to eye his sensory appendages.. Smokescreen stared into his broken image, a broken Praxian, a mech with no home, no family. He was most likely the last of his people.. If the decepticons he was interspersed among with were telling the truth. A rarity and here he was, sparked with a monster's newspark.

A newspark that would be Praxian...  
  
One that shouldn't have to live in this damned war.

_I have to do this..._

_I just can't..._


End file.
